Kane moved fast, too fast for a man who thought the cuffs made him harmless. He wrapped the chain around the guy’s wrist,yanked him forward, and then leaned down so the asshole could hear him clearly.
“I’m not a fucking Warrior.” He growled just as he drove his knee up hard. Bone cracked. Before the scream could fully leave the man’s throat, Kane twisted, hauled him down, and slammed his head into the concrete, silencing him.
Ken stared at the body, breathing hard. “Jesus?—”
“Walk,” Kane ordered Ken, stepping over the body.
Once further inside, the warehouse opened up into a wide, cavernous space. It was completely empty. Ken led them toward the back, and that’s when Kane heard voices. Loosening his body, he hung his head, trying to look less threatening, but still scanned the area, taking in everything. Lights buzzed overhead. It suddenly became silent as they walked into another large space.
“Get Farrar!” A man, ordered as Kane, slowly lifted his head.
“So that’s a Warrior, huh?” A man snorted, but Kane didn’t even look his way. He was getting sick and fucking tired of people thinking he was a damn Warrior. One thing was for sure: Farrar had definitely figured out that Monica was playing him. “Not impressed if this dumbass could bring him in.”
“Heard they were overrated.” Another man laughed. “I mean, if silver handcuffs can make him act like a bitch, he ain’t much.”
“What is this?” Farrar’s voice had Kane’s focus zeroed in. It was go time. “Where’s Monica?”
“She got away,” Ken answered, his voice sounding like a scared kid. Jesus, this guy was worthless. “But I brought him in. Don’t worry, I’ll get Monica. I just want my girl back, Farrar.”
“Are you fucking insane?” Farrar bellowed, his face full of rage. “Dead. I said bring him in dead. Not alive, you moron. And Monica for the girl, not the Warrior.”
Kane knew that his team and some of the Warriors were here somewhere; he just wasn’t sure where. But he had a feeling eyes were on them, which made him lift his head and look straight at Farrar.
“I’m not a fucking Warrior,” Kane’s eyes turned black in an instant. “I’m a Dark Guardian, and you fucked with the wrong guy.”
“Kill him!” Farrar pointed at Kane as if his guys were too stupid to know who he was talking about.
Kane felt a shift in the air. It was show time.
Ken stammered something useless, panic bleeding into his voice. Kane didn’t let him finish. He grabbed the back of Ken’s jacket and shoved him forward hard enough that Ken stumbled straight into the first man. As they collided, Kane moved into the chaos, heading straight for him.
The chain snapped tight as Kane swung his arms, the metal whistling through the air. It wrapped around a wrist, twisting and pulling as the sound of bone cracking filled the air. The gun clattered across the concrete. Kane yanked the man in and drove his forehead into the bridge of the guy’s nose, and felt cartilage collapse.
Another rushed him from the side.
Kane ducked, spun, and sent the chain snapping out again. This time it caught high, biting into a throat. He planted his foot and hauled back, using his whole body. The man clawed uselessly atthe metal before Kane slammed him backward into a crate and let him drop.
Shots rang out. Not aimed, but panicked.
Bullets tore into the walls. Concrete exploded beside Kane’s head. Dust and fragments sprayed the air. He felt the heat of one round pass close enough to singe his sleeve.
But none of them landed because he didn’t let them.
Kane kept moving but stayed inside their reach, where guns were clumsy, and fear made men slow. He used his elbows and knees; the chain was an extension of his intent. It wrapped around another man’s arm, yanked him off balance, then snapped tight around his neck as Kane pivoted and used him as a shield.
A bullet punched through the man’s back. Kane shoved the body aside and surged forward.
Someone tried to tackle him, but Kane dropped his weight, drove his shoulder into the man’s chest, and sent him skidding across the floor. Another came in high, but Kane caught the punch, twisted, and slammed the man face-first into the concrete until he stopped moving.
The warehouse erupted into full chaos now—shouts, boots scrambling, men slipping in blood and debris. He knew his team had arrived, but Kane didn’t slow. He couldn’t.
A man lunged from behind, arms locking around Kane’s chest. Kane let him. He drove backward hard, slamming the man into a support beam, then brought the chain up and around, jerking back until the grip loosened and the man collapsed, gasping.
Kane turned. More were coming. He charged straight into them.
The chain lashed out as he disarmed one man, broke another, dropped a third with a brutal headbutt that echoed through the warehouse.
Then—resistance. The chain went taut, caught on something solid.